


when all else fails

by haleofStilesheart



Series: Tumblr Prompts [21]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depressed Stiles, Derek is a Good Boyfriend, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Napping, napping together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8164622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: Stiles is depressed and Derek is bad with words, but somehow they still make it work.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous/gifts).



> For the prompt 148. "I don't remember volunteering to babysit you."

“I don’t remember volunteering to babysit you.”

Derek smirked, feeling disproportionately proud of his ad lib quip as he leaned against the door jamb, arms crossed over his chest, waiting for Stiles’ clever rejoinder. But to his surprise Stiles didn’t roll his eyes fondly or make a snarky comment in return to the teasing remark. Instead, he dropped his arms from where they’d been folded over his chest and rudely shouldered passed Derek into the loft, a thoroughly unamused scowl on his face.

Derek looked over his shoulder to watch him make a beeline to the bed by the wall of windows, flopping down on top of the covers with his back to Derek and the rest of the loft. Derek turned back to Isaac who was still standing awkwardly in the doorway, hands in his pockets, looking exceptionally bored by the proceedings, and quietly asked him, “What did I do?”

Isaac shrugged emphatically, shaking his head almost violently, sending his golden brown curls bouncing as he scrunched up his nose. He peered passed Derek into the loft to peek at Stiles before offering Derek a sympathetic look and a commiserating wince as he turned to start the long walk back down the multiple flights of stairs that led to the loft.

Derek tugged the heavy steel door shut, waving at Isaac as he did, and spun on his heel to look back at Stiles, chewing the inside of his cheek as he contemplated how best to approach the situation. He considered calling another beta to see if he knew anything about it or simply letting Stiles lay in bed for a bit while he made some lunch, but he ultimately decided to confront the issue head-on, reflecting on Stiles’ many requests that they maintain healthy, open communication to avoid any misunderstandings.

Not wanting any problems in their relationship whatsoever either, especially as new as it was, having only officially been with Stiles for a few months, Derek locked the door and strode across the loft to climb into bed too. The mattress groaned under his added weight as he stretched out on the covers behind Stiles, conversationally greeting, “Hey.”

Stiles absolutely reeked of unhappiness and anxiety, the bitter scents clinging stubbornly to his pale skin, strong enough to make Derek wrinkle his nose as he laid his head on one of his pillows. Not looking up from where his eyes were fixed on the brick wall, Stiles mumbled back, “Hey.”

Derek couldn’t help but cringe when he heard how utterly despondent Stiles sounded, voice thick with some emotion he couldn’t quite identify. He slid a few inches closer but maintained a berth of space between their bodies, not sure what Stiles needed at the moment and wary of crowding him in. He gently probed, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Stiles insisted snappishly, incriminating heartbeat skipping over the blatant lie. 

“I don’t need to be a werewolf to know that’s a lie,” Derek huffed with a small smile, his warm breath fanning over the back of Stiles’ neck, goosebumps erupting over his smooth skin. Taking a chance, Derek gingerly wrapped his arm around Stiles’ waist, sighing contentedly when he felt Stiles relax into the warm, familiar touch. Nosing behind Stiles’ ear, Derek quietly inquired, “Babe, please. What’s wrong? Did I do something? I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong. Could you please tell me?”

Stiles shifted in Derek’s arms, rolling over just enough to look up at him, laying his hand over the one Derek had resting on his hip, squeezing his fingers. Derek lifted his head to better meet Stiles’ eyes, resting his chin on Stiles’ upper arm, subtly rubbing his skin over the fabric of his flannel, discreetly scent marking him.

“I―” Stiles hesitated, biting his lip harshly, his teeth digging into the pink flesh enough to bruise. Derek nodded for him to continue, reaching up to swipe his thumb over his plump bottom lip to spare it from his callous abuse. 

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted in a soft, hushed whisper, eyes dropping to focus on the buttons of Derek’s Henley. He sighed, settling against Derek’s chest more comfortably as he continued, “I just feel kinda useless, y’know? And this whole thing with the witch…”

Ah, yes. The witch. The fucking witch. The one Isaac had pissed off by cracking a joke about where she could shove her broomstick. The one that had tried to curse Isaac and Peter only to find that her magic was apparently useless against werewolves. The one that had then turned on Stiles and hexed him instead, leaving him completely immobile as he watched her try to kill Isaac, watched Peter rip her beating heart out of her chest, and totalling his Jeep, thus why Isaac had to drop him off at the loft.

Derek had sent Peter and Isaac to oversee the passage of the witch through his territory, Stiles requesting to tag along so he could meet someone who might be able to give him some insight on his own magic as a spark. He had relented, eventually, well aware of Stiles’ interest in all things magical, and seen them off with strict instructions for them to protect Stiles at all costs. Then Isaac had made the joke and things had snowballed from there.

“And me being an insensitive asshole,” Derek added, putting the pieces together and feeling like the biggest asshole in all of existence. He wanted to kick his own ass. He tamped down the urge to whine in apology, instead scattering apologetic kisses over the side of Stiles’ neck and mournfully murmuring, “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey… No…,” Stiles protested softly, moving his free hand to stroke his fingers over Derek’s stubbled cheek, encouraging him to meet his eyes again. Derek obediently lifted his head, raising his brows expectantly as he leaned into Stiles’ palm. “It’s just… I get like this sometimes.”

“Like what? Self-deprecating?” Derek asked, rubbing his thumb over Stiles’ hip bone in small, soothing circles. He tried to keep his voice even, not wanting Stiles to think he was judging him or not taking him seriously. 

“Depressed,” Stiles answered almost inaudibly, as though even saying the word aloud would summon some sort of cataclysmic disaster, as though the moment he said the word Derek would bolt, kick him out of the loft, as though Derek didn’t already know about his mental health issues, having accompanied him to therapy a few times. “And, I don’t know, I just feel like I’m dragging you and everyone else down, y’know? Like I’m just the weak little human everyone needs to watch out for. Because I know that, basically, I am.”

“Hey, hey,” Derek shushed, moving his hand from Stiles’ hip to cup his cheek, running his thumb over his cheek. He leaned closer as he reminded him, “That’s just the depression talking. You don’t drag any of us down. You’re what keeps us together, keeps us going.”

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, I know it’s just me being stupid and insecure but I can’t help it,” Stiles conceded with a deep, weary sigh. He let his head fall onto Derek’s chest, closing his eyes as he murmured, “Ugh. I just wanna take a three year nap, y’know?”

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Derek promised, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ cheek with a smirk.

“Mmm… You’re so good to me,” Stiles mumbled, stifling a yawn as he wriggled around to get more comfortable, hand slipping off Derek’s cheek to flop onto the covers beside his head, fingers curling into the warm blanket. “You wanna nap together, babe?”

“Yeah,” Derek answered with a nod. He kissed Stiles’ shoulder before laying his head back down on his pillow, looping his arm around Stiles’ waist and drawing him back against him. He closed his eyes and basked in the scent of Stiles’ contentment, smiling to himself. After all, he’d always been a firm believer that a good nap could fix everything. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hale-of-stiles-heart on tumblr! Come prompt me!


End file.
